


Forget the Tea

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Couch Sex, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew that Sherlock dismantling the kettle would lead to this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget the Tea

For a first kiss, things started out rather mundane. It was a rainy Thursday. A case had been solved (only Sherlock Holmes would consider a double murder pedestrian and dull), and a damp John Watson was desperately in need of tea.

They made their way upstairs as they had so many times before, hanging up their coats and Sherlock’s scarf. John toed off his shoes and socks (he supposed Sherlock had deductions about why he preferred to be barefoot, but so far he’d kept them to himself) and headed into the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle.

The kettle didn’t react to the switch.

“Oh, I needed a part,” said Sherlock. “Haven’t had time to buy a new one yet.”

John closed his eyes and mentally counted to five before opening a cabinet to pull out the hob kettle. Of course it was on a high shelf and he stretched up on his tip toes to reach it, jumper riding up and exposing just a bit of skin.

Sherlock was suddenly behind him, pressing against him as he grabbed it for him. John could feel the warmth of his body, drier than his own with that damn Belstaff to wrap up in. “Sherlock you really don’t need to pin me against the counter.”

“You couldn’t reach it,” said Sherlock, setting the kettle down next to the sink. Of course he bloody well wasn’t going to fill it while he had it in his hand. John turned and was about to speak when he froze. Sherlock was always beautiful, but something about the way the gray light caught his eyes stole his breath.

Sherlock turned back towards him, studying his face. “John?” he said questioningly, those perfect lips turned slightly to a frown.

Reaching up, John tugged him down by front of his shirt with his right hand, while his left cupped Sherlock’s cheek and drew him into a kiss.

Sherlock made a startled noise, hands fluttering for a moment before landing on John’s shoulders. He kissed him back hard, almost as if he were trying to overwhelm the smaller man.

“Slow,” murmured John, kissing along his jaw before returning to his lips, backing Sherlock up until he hit the wall. Sherlock moaned and slid down a bit so that John could more easily control the kiss. His surrender felt near miraculous.

“Good,” whispered John, taking Sherlock’s hands and putting them on his hips as he stepped a little closer. He tangled his own hand in the curls at the nape of Sherlock’s neck, deepening the kiss but still taking it slow.

Sherlock moaned, melting underneath his hand. John thought he was in danger of sliding all the way down the wall to sit on the floor. Hooking his fingers in Sherlock’s belt loops he turned the man and backed him to the sofa, still sipping his kisses as they walked. Sherlock’s eyes flew open as he landed on the seat, but then John was climbing into his lap and they shut again.

Now John tangled both hands in Sherlock’s hair, kissing him deeply, slipping his tongue into his mouth, keeping the pace slow and steady, though he could feel the thrum of Sherlock’s desire and his ache to speed things along.

“John,” he gasped when the smaller man finally broke for air, looking up at him with so much desire in his eyes that John felt his cock straining against his trousers.

“You’re beautiful,” murmured John. 

Sherlock blushed and looked away.

“We don’t have to do anything more than you’re comfortable with,” said John leaning down to kiss from below his ear to his exposed shoulder, letting his teeth barely scrape across the skin.

“I’ve never, John,” admitted Sherlock, quietly.

“We’ll take things slow,” promised John, slipping off his lap to sit next to him. “Better?”

Sherlock nodded and leaned in to kiss him, pressing John back against the arm of the sofa, experimenting with tongue and soft nips as John relaxed and let him do as he would.

John moaned softly, feeling Sherlock’s clothed erection grinding against his own. Sherlock was methodical, no doubt cataloging every soft sigh John was making. He pinned John’s wrists next to his head and John’s hips bucked up hard against him.

“Fascinating,” murmured Sherlock.

John smiled up at him. He kept his eyes open as he captured Sherlock’s lower lip in his teeth.

Sherlock growled low in his throat, pulling away and adjusting himself as he panted, eyes blown dark.

“Can I touch you?” asked John, wanting to wrap his hand around Sherlock’s cock, or maybe take him in his mouth.

Sherlock licked his lip. “If I can touch you as well.”

John smiled and opened his jeans, sitting back against the sofa. Sherlock copied his movements.

“This okay?” asked John, reaching over and freeing Sherlock’s cock from his pants.

Sherlock bit back a gasp and nodded as John’s sure hand wrapped around his cock. John leaned close to his ear. “I’m going to make you come, Sherlock,” he promised as he started to stroke him. “We have time, and I’m going to teach you what I know.”

Blindly, Sherlock reached out for John’s cock, and, with a little help, wrapped his elegant fingers around John’s thick manhood. Sherlock’s head dropped back on the sofa, panting and moving his hand on instinct.

“Beautiful,” said John, kissing down his jaw and nibbling his neck, moving his hand a little faster. Sherlock’s hips jerked up to meet him, the detective’s breath gone ragged as his orgasm drew near. The hand on John’s cock was nowhere near as steady or sure, but it was enough, between that and the sounds Sherlock was making.

“Come with me,” said John, giving his hand a twist.

Sherlock cried out and came. John’s eyes closed and he rest his head on Sherlock’s shoulder as he followed him over, softly moaning his pleasure.

They sat there together in bliss for a few moments. John chuckled softly as he moved first. “Maybe a bit farther than I planned to go, but I think was all right, yeah?”

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes. “I think so, yes.”

John kissed him and started to get up. Sherlock’s long arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back down, burying his head against John’s shoulder. “Okay, I don’t have to go anywhere,” he said softly, relaxing into Sherlock’s grip and forgetting all about the tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to beltainefaire for the beta and jamistoryteller for the word wars. You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
